Sad Sweetness
by Tribi Ponyfeathers
Summary: Sad AU one-shots for Miraculous Ladybug. The title will make sense eventually. Rated M for suicide, self harm, abuse, and the like.
1. Brother

_**This is based off of the beautifully sad song 'Her Last Words'.**_

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Dear World,

I was always looking for my brother's approval. It's funny, because he was always looking for the approval of someone else. Our father really was the worst. Felix bent over backwards to try to make Father happy. As I write this, I can hear Father yelling at Felix again for something. It's kind of fucked up, really. Father was driving the car, but he wasn't the one to blame. The driver of the car that T-Boned Mother's side of the car is. Father blames himself, always has, and can't take that Felix and I both look so much like her. Me more than my older brother, because I'm a girl. The funny thing is that Father locked me away because he was afraid of losing me too. I was named after my mom. Stupid.

I hate this world. Hate that I was chosen. Out of all the people in Paris, why did I have to be picked to become the 'Famous Chat Noir'?! I couldn't take it. Piano, Chinese, English, Japanese, Spanish, fencing, every type of martial arts under the sun, modeling, school, acting, and now being a superhero?! What's next, juggling? Oh, wait, I started that last year. No friends, no one to help with the hundreds of burdens on my shoulders. Ladybug tries, I know he does, but he can't help. And to top it all off, I have to keep up a perfectly happy and carefree image, no matter who I am. This life is shot. Literally. (ha) No one will really miss me, anyone. Father would probably be glad. And Felix, too. The one who held the key to my heart (even though he never knew it).

I have so many masks. Model, Schoolgirl, Happy Daughter, Chat Noir. Countless others that I don't even have names for. I haven't felt love, or kindness, for five years, besides from my three friends.

Matt, the sweet, kind boy who was always ready to help; don't be too sad that I'm gone, okay? This is the end to my suffering. These marks I've left on myself, well, they were just me trying to take away my mental pain by giving myself some physical pain instead.

Ladybug, I knew who you were for so long. I think it showed in 'school me' when I interacted with you. Don't worry, I've already chosen another to take my place. One not so burdened by real life. I've always loved you, Ladybug.

Alya, Nino, don't worry. It was never anything you did. I just couldn't take life, is all. Also, punch Charlie in the face for me, okay? I want him to know how much I hated his creepy advances. Nino, you get all my videogames, okay? I want you to play them so many times they break. Alya, do a piece for me on the Ladyblog, okay? And you get anything you want from my room. And all my clothes.

I love all of you guys so, so much. Good bye.

-Grace Agreste/ Chat Noir.

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She sighed as she read through the note for the fifteenth time. She shakily signed her names at the bottom of the page, and folded it neatly in half before taping it to the outside of her door after writing the words 'Read First' on the outside. She got out her white sleeveless white tank top, and her favorite pair of blue jean shorts. She wrote 'Bury me in this' on a notecard after she placed them on her laptop.

She then got on her oversized bed, and began to let her tears fall as she placed the six shot revolver to her head. _Click_. Not the bullet. _**BOOM**_. There it was. Her last thought was of Ladybug's sweet face.

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 _ **BOOM!**_

The shot rang through the otherwise silent mansion. Felix stood up from his desk in the small bedroom next door to Grace's. He raced out the door, confronted by a piece of folded notebook paper that said _'Read First'_ in shaky handwriting on it. _Grace_ 's shaky handwriting. His worst fears were all confirmed as he read the paper's contents, his hands shaking so badly by the end of it that he had to set it down to keep reading. Wet droplets stained the handwriting of his beloved little sister. He reached a hand up to his face just in time to stop another tear from running down his face. He got up, shock subsided (for now) as he opened the door hurriedly, rushing inside to find her body sprawled next to her bed, blood staining the white bedsheets and the cream short-sleeve nightgown she wore. Tears soon joined the blood as Felix ran to his little sister, holding her head in his lap as he cried over her small, broken body. Over the cuts all along her arms and legs, and the sweet, happy smile on her face. Over the bullet wound, a simple inch wide hole above her right ear.

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His scream echoed for miles.


	2. Scars

_**This is inspired by the beautifully sad son**_ **'My R'. _Please check it out before reading..._**

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I can't stop this girl! Oh, this is new!

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Every day, I visit the rooftop of my school, and enjoy the view until sunrise. This morning, as I was just about to put my shoes on, I noticed a girl with braided hair on the wrong side of the bars, sitting on the ledge. Despite myself, I scream, "Hey, don't do it please!"

She sniffled, and looked up. "Why do you care?! You'll just leave me too." The tears were still evident on her face.

"Tell me what happened! Please don't kill yourself!" I ran over to her section of bars. She turned slightly to face me.

"My mom left because of me last week. My boyfriend left me for someone prettier. Chloe got almost the whole grade to beat me up. My dad tried to kill me. I thought I'd finish the job for him." Her multicolored hair fell into her golden orange eyes, the tiny braids in her hair jumbling together. "You've probably heard it all before," She was crying again, her face buried in her arms.

"What is your name?" I reached a hand through the bars to comfort her.

"Mylene." She stood up, dusting herself off. "I'm feeling better, thank you for listening." The girl with braided hair then disappeared.

"Mylene!" I screamed! She had already hit the pavement, a smile permanently etched onto her face.

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"Alright, today's a new day!" or so I thought. Just as I took both of my shoes off, I noticed a girl, short as can be. Despite myself, I went and screamed, "Hey, don't do it please!"

"Why do you care?! You're probably just going to forget about me tomorrow." She turned around, preparing to jump.

"Why would I forget you, miss..."

"Rose. You wouldn't remember because nobody does. It was my birthday last week, and nobody remembered. Not even my girlfriend Juleka. Nobody cares. Everyone hates me because I like girls. Everyone either ignores me or steals from me. Juleka broke up with me, after stealing all of my schoolwork and ruining the project we were working on. I'm failing school. The literal only light in my life was my girlfriend, and she's gone!" Tears were rolling off her face in droves now.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," I said as I comforted her over the bars. "Don't you at least have food waiting on the table when you get home?" She gripped the bars tight, and I thought that she would come over the bars, so I stepped back to just out of arm's length.

"I'm hungry," Said Rose as she shed a tear. The girl short as can be then disappeared.

"No, Rose!" I ran to save her, but for the second time, I failed.

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And just like that there was someone every day.

I listened to their tale, I let them turn away.

And yet there was no one who would do this for me, no way.

How can I let out all the pain?

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Having failed them time and time again.

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For the very first time, there I see someone with similar pains as me.

She wore a bright red cardigan.

"Hey, don't do it please!" I ran to her, holding her upper arm.

"I just wanna stop the scars that grow every time that I go home. That's why I came up here instead." She shook off my hand, taking off her red cardigan. In it's place were so many scars, more with bandages on them to prevent them from bleeding through her pink shirt.

"What is your name? Please, at least tell me that. I want to keep track of how many girls I've failed to save." I was crying now, holding her hand so she wouldn't jump yet.

"Marinette." I can't stop this girl, oh this is new!

"Well, Marinette, since I probably won't be able to stop you from jumping like the seventeen other girls and twelve guys, can I at least tell you my woes? I feel like I'm turning insane."

"Fine."

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Time skip

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"Please just go away so I can't see that pitying expression! It's just too much for me" I was on the ground, sobbing, in front of Marinette.

"I guess today is just not my day." She looked away from me and then she disappeared

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"There's no one here today. I guess it's time. It's just me, myself, and I," I say as I climb over the railing on the roof. "Just as I thought, no one here to interfere. Noone to get in my way here." I see Marinette from my position on the roof. She see's me too, and runs towards me.

Taking of my bright red cardigan, and letting all my braids come undone. This petite girl, short as can be, is going to jump now and be free!

"SABRINA! NO!" Thud.

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 _ **In case you're curious as to why Sabrina killed herself, it's because of a mental condition she had. This caused her emotions to be hyper-sensitive, and also caused her to internalize other's problems as her own.**_

 _ **She also felt extremely guilty that she failed to save those 29 other people. Every time that she came home, she carved the name of the person she failed into her body, because every morning she witnessed another person die because she failed them, and also wanting to end the mental burden of keeping all those other people's woes.**_

 _ **She felt that no one else would listen to her woes, so she hid the scars with a red cardigan and a smile. (The school had a dress code)**_

 _ **She only had one friend. And she met her the day before she becomes free.**_

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 _ **She's not actually dead. She fell in such a way that she lost her memory. The doctors used surgery (at Marinette's request) to remove her scars so she could start over. Her memory now resets every two weeks, and Marinette now re-makes friend with her every two weeks.**_

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 _ **I told you at the beginning that it was sad but sweet. Bittersweet, I believe the term is.**_


	3. Bottles

Dear Marinette,

I hope you hate me.

I've been sober, now for three whole months. It's one accomplishment that you helped me with. It's funny 'cause the one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I'll never touch again.

In a sick way, I wanna thank you for holding my head up late at night. While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight.

You never doubted my opinions on suicide or hate, and you made my compliment myself when it was way too hard to take.

I drove so f*cking far away that I hope I never crossed your mind. Please do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind.

With a sad heart I said 'bye' to you, and waited.

I'm sorry that I never was a man until I saw your blue eyes cry, and I held your face in my hands.

Smile, just smile and shine, just like it used to be.

I hope when I left, you whispered to yourself 'How could he do this to me?'

I deserve your hate, and I hope you do hate me. In ways hard to swallow.

I hope you hate me so you can finally see what's good for you.

-Nathaniel Kurtzburg

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 _ **AN: Nathaniel ran away after waking from a drunken stupor to find that he had seriously injured his fiancé, Marinette. He had not realized it, but when he got extremely drunk with his bros, he came home and hurt Marinette, either verbally or physically. He had not believed that Mari was getting hurt because of him, because whenever he asked when he was sober, she said she just fell down the stairs (for the bruises) or that she cut herself accidentally in the kitchen that she works at with her best friend Alya. Marinette lied because the usual Nathaniel (when he's not drunk) is a sweet and caring tomato boy. So, when he figured it out, he became disgusted and horrified with himself, choosing to distance himself from Mari and never touch another drop of alcohol. The excerpt above is a draft of a letter that Nathaniel will end up sending to Marinette.**_


	4. So, guys

**You.**

All of you reading this right now.

You need to read this **whole entire thing.**

Don't just click off.

This could save **a life**.

 **You reading these words** could _save_ **a life**.

Maybe yours.

Maybe a friend's.

Maybe a random stranger's.

 **You never know**.

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You still here?

Good.

 **Now then.**

I have a confession to make.

I am self-diagnosed with bipolar depression type two.

I refer to it as 'melty rainbows'.

I often think of self harm or suicide.

But, I have never once gone through with hurting myself to the extent of opening my skin.

People often think of doing such things, it's true.

Suicide is an epidemic.

And I have shown signs of the disease.

But, I can't.

I can't progress into the terminal stages.

I don't think I ever will.

 _Not_ because I'm too strong or any of that **bullshit**.

I'm too **scared.**

Too **scared** of hurting myself.

Of _dying._

As brave as I act in real life, that's it.

An **act**.

I often am scared to get out of bed in the morning.

Or to go to school.

Or to talk.

But I do.

I need to.

I bullshit my way through life.

Now, before you go thinking _'Oh this is a suicide note'_ or _'oh she's just whining about herself what a bitch'_ ; I need to tell you why I'm saying this.

I'm saying all this, being truthful on the _**INTERNET**_ , because I want to say to every person who reads this:

 **"You** ** _aren't_** **alone. We may not have shared the same experiences, but** ** _this battle is not one you have to fight alone_** **."**

I know because I have a couple good friends who help me fight my battles, and I help them fight theirs.

You may look at your friend who you trust with nearly everything and say to yourself, _'I don't want to bring them down with my problems'_ or _'They wouldn't understand'_ or any other self-depreciating excuse your little voice in the back of your head called 'Inner Bully' can come up with.

 _ **But they're lying.**_

 _ **THE INNER BULLIES ARE LYING TO YOU!**_

I can't stress this enough.

When you share a burden with others, it becomes lighter on _both_ your shoulders.

So talk to that one person you trust more than anything else ever.

If they say things to you that aren't supportive, **that is** ** _NOT _****your fault**.

It's theirs.

So give them the what for.

And guess what? Experts think that 121 people commit suicide per day. For every suicide, there are at least 25 attempts.

So, let's make that number just a _bit_ smaller, huh?

How about minus **one**?


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